


The Raven Prince

by wonderfulWonderful505



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Albus Dumbledore Bashing, Betrayed Harry Potter, Dark Harry Potter, Ginny Weasley Bashing, Good Malfoy Family (Harry Potter), Good Tom Riddle, Harry Potter is a Malfoy, Hermione Granger Bashing, Hurt Harry, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Ron Weasley Bashing, Somewhat Good Voldemort (Harry Potter)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-01-15 09:58:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18496606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wonderfulWonderful505/pseuds/wonderfulWonderful505
Summary: A painful 17th Birthday leads Harry Potter to a life he never thought he could have. A twin, a family and the chance to get revenge on the people who betrayed him are revealed and Harry learns what it means to be loved.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter ...
> 
> I hope the switch in PoV isn't too confusing and that you enjoy this first chapter. I don't know how far I will take this fic, it depends on the reaction, I guess. 
> 
> Everyone is sad at the moment but they get better I promise!

Draco Malfoy watched as the last of his friends exited through the floo of Malfoy Manor. He turned to his mother and father, a smile on his face, and began his journey through the walls of his ancestral home towards the family dining room. Draco’s birthday dinner with his parents was coming to a close when a small pained gasp came from the 17 year-old platinum blond wizard.

“Draco, what is it?” Narcissa Malfoy exclaimed from across the table.

She rose quickly as her precious son slumped in his chair, face scrunched up in pain, as a groan escaped his lips.

“Lucius! What’s wrong with him? Help me!”

The two aristocrats scrambled to reach their son as his body began to twitch. The Malfoy Lord picked up his son, bridal style, and rushed to carefully lay him down on the couch in the adjoining sitting room.

Pain raked through Draco’s body as flashes of what could only be called a torture scene rapidly flew through his mind. He saw a head of platinum hair, streaked with raven black and speckled with blood, a large, fat man looming over him with a knife glinting in the harsh lighting of the room. A street lined with almost identical little houses. White picket fences, manicured lawns, shiny cars lined up neatly in the driveways and finally a street sign and the red door of number four.

Draco forced his eyes open to find the matching silver of his father's staring panicked back at him. “Father,” he rasped reaching out to make sure all focus was on his words.

“Corvus,” Draco said and watched his father’s eyes widen. His mother paled, tears running down her porcelain cheeks as she sank into the couch next to her son.

“Four, Privet Drive Father... It’s Corvus.”

The Malfoy patriarch forewent all the dignity a Malfoy should exhibit and ran out the main doors, apperating with a crack to his lost son.  

 

* * *

 

Pain was the only thing Harry Potter could comprehend.

Pain in his head, his back, his arse.

Pain from his fingers to his toes and he honestly didn’t think he could take much more of it.

His head felt fuzzy, full of all those wrackspurts Luna was always telling him came in through his ears.

As the minutes passed Harry realised the deathly quiet around him was real. His Uncle had finally gone and the house was probably asleep.

A small crack rang out through the silent street of Privet Drive. _‘Apperation’_ Harry’s mind supplied him without completely understanding its meaning. Thoughts drifted through his head aimlessly and Harry couldn’t latch on to any of them well enough to understand them.

He lay quietly on the poor excuse for a bed and let the pain roll over him.

As the fog slowly seeped from his mind Harry began to survey his surroundings. His head hurt too much to consider opening his eyes so he ran small movements through his body to determine the damage his wretched Uncle did this time. His whole body was searing with pain but Harry only discovered three, possibly four broken bones.

His right arm and wrist, his left ankle and maybe one of his ribs. He couldn’t quite tell.

He was lying face down on what seemed to be his threadbare mattress but there was too much space around him for Harry to be in his cupboard. He must be in Dudley’s second bedroom. That was bad. It meant Uncle Vernon would be back in the morning.

Harry was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard the front door of his relatives house open. He stilled, straining his ears to listen to the movement down stairs.

Footsteps moved from the front door, through the entryway and towards the stairs. The third step up creaked, just like Harry knew it would, and the intruder paused for a moment, gauging the reactions of the house's sleeping residents. 

All remained quiet and the footsteps resumed, coming directly towards the door of Dudley's second bedroom, directly towards Harry. Harry scrunched up his eyes as his breathing quickened. His back and ribs flared in pain with the increased movement. He prayed he wouldn't have to explain this situation to the Order. He didn't think he could take it. 

The locks slid open and Harry heard the distinct sound of the heavy door sliding along the wooden floor, it’s hinges free from creeks. Panic rose in Harry’s chest, but still he didn’t move. His head was getting fuzzy again, he could feel the blood seeping from wounds in his back every time his chest expanded. Feel the tears leaking from the corner of his scrunched up eyes.

He just wanted this wretched night to end.

A strangled gasp came from the doorway and heavy footsteps rushed over to his broken form as Harry’s breathing reached a rapid high. He felt dizzy as a hand carefully, ever so gently brushed through his blood matted hair.

Someone was touching him.

His breath quickened. He was hyperventilating now and the hands running through his hair, over his face and arms, continued their ministrations. He was in too much pain to plead with the intruder to stop. A small whimper the only sound that escaped his wrecked body.

No air was reaching his lungs by now and as the heavy blackness claimed him, Harry heard a distant familiar voice.

“Oh, Corvus..”

 

* * *

 

“Oh, Corvus.. What have they done to you?” Lucius Malfoy whispered as he took in the bloody mess that was his son. A son he hadn’t seen in nearly sixteen years but would recognise anywhere.

His back was a bloody mess. Long lithe limbs were strewn spread-eagle across the bed, in a manner that had Lucius’ anger boiling. Not an inch of Corvus’ pale Malfoy white skin was unmarred by cuts, bruises, blood or scars. As Lucius noticed the shallow pained way his son was breathing his hard earned resolve nearly broke. Only decades of occlumency stopped him from falling to the floor and sobbing in despair.

He needed to get his son home. Get him out of this horrid _muggle_ place.

Very gently. More gently than he had ever done anything before, Lucius Malfoy rolled his son over on the bed and picked him up, cradling him in his arms. Another whimper escaped the battered body and Lucius felt tears prickling in his eyes.

He turned and walked as quickly as he could without jostling the bleeding, broken boy he loved so much and made his way out onto the street. He felt the wards around the house pass over him and turned on his heel, leaving Privet Drive behind with a crack.

 

* * *

 

Draco froze as his father rushed through the door of Malfoy Manor. He stared in shock at the 17 year-old bloody mess in his father’s arms as he headed straight for a bedroom; Corvus’ bedroom.

“Draco, get Severus. Now!”

Draco shot up at his father’s order and rushed to the floo to call his godfather. Green flames shot up in the fireplace.

“Uncle Sev,” he called, knowing that despite the late hour, his godfather would still be awake. “Uncle Sev, where are you?”

“Draco,” the dark haired man called as he walked in front of the fire. “What’s wrong?”

“Potions kit, over here, quickly! It’s Corvus!” His godfather looked at him, stunned for a moment, before he rushed through the door that Draco knew led to his lab.

A few moments had Severus Snape rushing out of his lab with a case filled with medicinal potions and a harried look in his eye. “Out of the way Draco, I’m coming through.”

A flare of green light, and a quick muttered spell to banish the soot, and Draco was leading his godfather through the Manor and into the pale purple room of his twin brother.

Both men gasped at the sight before them. Lying naked on his stomach in the middle of the plush four poster bed, Corvus looked like he’d been flayed alive. His back was cut up in lashes from his shoulders to his mid back. Bruises littered his arms, legs and torso and in deep red lettering along his lower back was the word ‘freak’. Blood and semen dripped down his thighs and his left ankle stuck out at an odd angle.

Draco felt sick.

This was his brother. This was the boy he’d shared a womb with. This was the boy who was ripped from his mother’s arms when he was just over a year old. How could this have happened?

Draco sunk to the floor, tears running down his cheeks as Severus dove into action casting diagnostic charms, stopping the blood pouring down Corvus’ back, levitating him and slowly rolling him over. Severus kept Corvus hovering as he began to pour potions down his throat and called for Mother to aid him.

“Cissy I know,” Severus said in the gentle tone he only reserved for family as he addressed the distraught mother. Holding her hands and looking directly into haunted, tear filled eyes, “but I need you to help me clean him.”

Draco watched as his mother climbed onto the bed and, with shaking hands and sobs wracking her body. A House Elf deposited two bowls of warm water onto the bed with an array of sponges and cloths. The two carefully cleaned the blood off Corvus’ body as Draco felt the strong arm of his Father wrap around his shoulders. He turned his head into the older man’s neck and allowed the sobs to consume him.

“I can feel it Father,” Draco said in a shaky whisper. “He’s in so much pain.”

His father’s hand ran through his platinum hair as soothing words made their way to his ear. Comforting Draco in a way only his Father could. “It’s okay my Dragon, we have him now. He’s going to be okay.”

Draco looked up as his mother and godfather moved to wrap Corvus' wounds. Covered in bandage as white as his skin, blood no longer over every inch of his body, Corvus looked slightly more human to Draco. He was carefully lowered back onto the mattress as Severus cast more healing spells, setting broken bones and easing bruises.

Determining the immediate healing was completed, the group left Corvus to heal and headed to the family sitting room. There was no way any of them would be able to sleep, knowing the child they had been looking for for 16 years was slowly being pieced back together upstairs.


	2. Chapter Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry wakes up and finds out he is not who he thought he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter 
> 
> I'm so sorry this took so long and I hope it clears up a few of the questions you had from the last chapter. I hope you enjoy :)

Harry awoke and was immediately unnerved. There was something wrong and he couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was. He subtly moved his extremities trying to judge how much damage his Uncle had left him with this time and he realised:

There was no pain. 

Well there was pain. But it was only a dull ache. As if all his lashes, breaks and tares had been healed and he was left with the residual pain. 

That fact on it’s own was enough to make Harry wary, but the softness he felt beneath him put him on high alert. He was not in his cupboard, or on his dingy little cot in Dudley’s second bedroom and he was sure that’s where his horrible Uncle had left him. 

Harry thought hard, the night before slowly piecing itself back together for him. He had worked all day for his horse-faced shrew of an Aunt then, when his Uncle got home he was punished for not working to his Uncle’s standards. What Vernon Dursley’s standards were exactly, Harry had spent 16 years trying to figure out. He always completed his chores to perfection in the hopes that he might be spared a minute of pain at the hands of his Uncle. There was no hope, however, because Harry was sure his Uncle just enjoyed beating him into oblivion every other night. Why he continued to use an excuse for this, Harry wasn’t sure. 

Harry remembered waking up after his Uncle’s latest beat down in extreme pain. He hated passing out while his Uncle was around, he just kept going whether Harry was awake to be violated or not. He remembered someone breaking into the Dursley’s house and opening the door to his personal prison. Did they move him? Had he been saved? No, he mustn’t get his hopes up. No one had come to save him in sixteen years, surely no one would care about him now. 

Keeping his eyes closed and letting his magic explore the room, Harry deduced he was alone. Slowly opening his eyes and blinking a few times to adjust to the light pouring in from the windows to his right, Harry looked around. 

He was in a large bedroom with soft purple walls and a thick grey carpet. He was laying in a large four poster bed, similar to his one in Gryffindor tower, but bigger and unimaginably soft. A desk was under the window and smaller tables sat on either side of the bed. There were three doors, two to the left of him, leading to what he assumed were a bathroom and walk-in wardrobe of some sort, and another straight ahead of him which Harry assumed led to the rest of the house. Wherever that was. 

Listening carefully to the sounds around him, Harry slowly sat up. His muscles ached and his body shook with the effort and he didn’t think he had the ability to stand up on his own for very long. Groaning, he managed to move a pillow behind his back so he could lean against the headboard. Looking around the room, he wondered again where exactly he was. 

Harry sighed as his bladder called to him. He was going to have to get up… 

Slowly shifting his legs over the edge of the bed, Harry noticed his entire torso was covered in bandages. A twinge in his back as he twisted and cuts caught on the fabric, told him the effects of his beating were not completely healed. Likely he was in such a state that weeks of potions and healing spells were needed, despite having been back at the Dursley's for only a few days. The first few days of the holidays were always the worst. Uncle Vernon was creative, having had almost a year to think of new ways to torture his nephew. 

Looking at his hands, Harry noticed he was very pale, more so than he remembered being the last time he was conscious. He started in shock as he realised he was looking around with perfect vision, and he didn’t have his glasses on! Had his mystery saviour somehow fixed his vision? Surely Madam Pomfrey would have told him if something like that was an option?

Harry looked closer at his paler-than-normal, not quite what he remembered, hands and decided he  _ really  _ needed to get to the bathroom now. He needed to find a mirror.

Rising on shaky legs, holding on to the mattress to keep himself from falling over, Harry began to move slowly towards the doors on the right of the room. He prayed to whatever gods were listening that the closest door was, in fact, the bathroom. He was sure he’d never make it to the further one. 

Soft voices floated in from outside the door, getting closer by the second and Harry froze. His muscles ached with the strain of being upright as he waited to see who had brought him out of his personal hell. 

The door opened and in walked four people he never expected to see by his bedside; Severus Snape and the Malfoys. 

He closed his eyes, using both hands to hold himself up now, and let out a soft groan. His life was complicated enough without having to deal with four people who hated him more than they hated anything, even  _ Dumbledore _ . Next thing he knew he’d be accosted by Voldemort and then all his greatest ‘enemies’ would have seen him at his absolute worst. 

He flinched as an arm snaked around him and helped hold him up. “Merlin Corvus, what are you doing out of bed! You must be feeling like absolute shit.” 

A startled, broken laugh came, unwillingly, out of Harry’s mouth as he looked up into very familiar silver eyes. ‘Absolute shit’ was an understatement, but Harry’s witty retort died on his lips as he noticed it was Draco Malfoy who had his arm securely wrapped around Harry and was gently pushing him in the direction of the bed.

“B-bath-room,” Harry choked out through vocal cords rough with overuse, using what little strength he had to try and push Draco in the right direction. He chose to think about the fact that Draco Malfoy was helping him and why the hell he was okay with it, why the hell he was with the Malfoys at all and who the hell Corvus was meant to be after his bladder was empty and he’d looked in a mirror. 

Questions could wait for a little while.  

“How are you even standing right now?” Draco mused as he helped Harry shuffle over to the first door. Guiding him in through a large, opulent, blue and white bathroom. There was a pool like bath on one side of the room that Harry thought he would do just about anything to try.

Ignoring Draco’s question and ushering him out of the room with a look, Harry relieved himself and shuffled over to the sink. He washed his hands and looked into the mirror hoping to see that his face was not completely disfigured or something equally horrible. 

Staring into the mirror, he didn’t recognise himself. Moving a hand in front of the reflective surface to make sure he wasn’t just looking at an obscure portrait or something, Harry stared in shock at the tall, skinny blonde boy looking back at him.

His face, which after closer inspection  _ had  _ to be his face as there was a lightning bolt scar hidden beneath his messy fringe, was pale, pointy and painfully familiar. His high cheekbones, perfectly straight nose and strong jaw made Harry think of an amalgamation of both Lucius Malfoy and Sirius. 

His eyes were no longer Lily Potter’s striking emerald green but a piercing ice blue, flecked slightly with _Avada_ green. His hair, which was still slightly matted with dried blood and sweat, was pure platinum blonde with dark, raven streaks running through it. He wondered vaguely how that could possibly be natural before he remembered that magic existed and that his _entire_ _body_ had changed over night, and sorted out his priorities. 

Harry noticed he must be at least two inches taller than last time he checked. His shoulders a little broader, waist a little slimmer, feet and hands a little bigger and, over all, Harry couldn’t find anything he objected to in his new appearance. The longer he looked, the more comfortable he felt. Like he was finally in his own skin for the first time and he wondered if he was meant to look like this all along. 

If that was true, that left some increasingly panicked questions in his head. Who the hell was he? Was he even Harry Potter or was his whole life a big lie? By the looks of him he was a Malfoy, and that was just a whole other issue. 

Hearing a knock on the door and Draco calling out to him, Harry decided it was time to ask some of his questions. 

He opened the door and Draco helped him into the bed. Fussing over the pillow at his back, making sure the blankets were securely wrapped around his legs and generally bewildering Harry with his obvious mothering. This was not the Draco Malfoy he knew from six years of Hogwarts. 

Once Draco was satisfied Harry was comfortable and wasn’t moving anywhere, he moved to sit on the side of the bed, Harry’s hand securely held in his. Harry observed the obvious resemblance in his and Draco’s features. Their nose was the same, the same eyes (despite the striking colour difference) were framed by the same straight eyebrows and high, aristocratic cheekbones. Their jaws were a little different and their ears not quite in the same place but, all in all, they looked eerily similar. 

The other three occupants of the room moved to gathered around, Snape stood awkwardly at the end of the bed while both Lucius and Narcissa perched themselves elegantly on either side of his feet. “W-whe-where - ?” Harry stuttered out before looking helplessly at Draco, knowing instinctively that he would know what he needed. It was a strange revelation to Harry but he was proved right when Draco called a House Elf for a glass of water. 

Water slid gently down his throat with Draco’s aid and Harry felt instantly better. “Thank you,” he whispered hoarsely to the blonde with a small smile. Draco just squeezed his hand and Harry looked back out to his audience. “Where am I?” he said, turning to Lucius. 

“You’re at Malfoy Manor,” the man said, looking at Harry with the blank mask Harry was intimately familiar with. His deep baritone sparking a light in Harry’s fuzzy memory of his last night at the Dursley’s. “Do you remember what happened?”

“You - ,” Harry started, staring at the Malfoy Lord with barely concealed shock. “You came to get me? You rescued me?” he asked and at Lucius’ nod he looked down at himself and quickly back up to the powerful man in front of him. “Why? How? I have so many questions, I don’t even know where to begin.” 

Lucius looked calmly at the slightly panicked young man and placed a soothing hand on his blanket covered ankle. “Why don’t I start with a story and then we’ll get to everything you don’t understand, okay?” 

Harry slowly nodded his head, unconsciously squeezing Draco’s hand in nervousness. Lucius glanced at the Lady Malfoy briefly and began; “seventeen years ago, Narcissa gave birth to two of the most beautiful babies I have ever seen. My twin sons, Draco Lucius and Corvus Regulus Malfoy. Draco was the spitting image of myself at that age, the Malfoy hair and eyes and everything. Corvus on the other hand, held a few more Black traits from Narcissa’s blood, ice blue eyes and streaks of the blackest hair, it was almost blue. Narcissa and our boys were happy and healthy and I had everything I could ever want in life and then, one day, it all was taken away from us.” 

Harry noticed Draco’s grip tighten again and the pale, teary-eyed face of Lady Malfoy as Lucius went on. Despite what everyone was lead to believe, Harry was not stupid. He knew he Lucius meant he was the twin brother of Draco Malfoy, and wasn’t that just the weirdest thing he’d ever heard. His breath began to quicken as he realised just how very much he has been lied to over the years. 

“About sixteen years ago,” Lucius continued, “I was taking Draco to the Healer when the Manor was raided by the Order of the Phoenix. An organisation founded by Albus Dumbledore to rally against the Dark Lord. I believed then they thought we were harbouring the Dark Lord here, in the Manor but I think, now, I was wrong.”

“Alastor Moody, Frank Longbottom and James Potter managed to break through the wards and found their way to the nursery where Narcissa and Corvus were napping. They put Narcissa in a full body bind, snatched Corvus out of her arms and, leaving Narcissa under the curse, left, setting fire to the entrance hall on the way out. I came home with Draco to find the Manor ablaze, Narcissa a wreck and Corvus nowhere to be seen.”

Harry was breathing  _ hard _ now. His father, or who he thought was his father, stole a baby out of its mother’s arms and took him as his own. Was that the plan all along? Did Lily Potter know he wasn’t really her son? Would she still have died for him if she knew? Harry looked with panicked eyes at the Malfoy Lord sitting before him as the man continued his story. Whether he realised the extent of Harry’s inner panic and just wanted to get it all out in the open as quickly as possible, Harry didn’t know. He hoped that was true because the alternative was just cruel. 

“We’ve looked for Corvus every minute since the attack. Sixteen years of searching.” Lucius managed to look both impassive and hopeful with this statement. 

“We hoped that, if he was still alive, Draco would be able to find Corvus through their twin-bond as soon as they both reached Hogwarts. But Draco has never felt anything and we were beginning to lose all hope until last night. Draco felt Corvus last night, felt his distress and saw images of a large man with a knife, lots of blood and a muggle street. That all led me to you...” 

Harry’s breath caught at the mention of his Uncle, blood draining from his face and a fearful look entering his ice blue eyes. Draco’s hand squeezed in his and Harry turned to the blonde next to him. “You saw that?” he whispered. “You saw what he did to me?”

“I did,” said Draco. His voice was entirely too sympathetic for Harry’s liking, but he let it go for now. 

“I’m so sorry you had to see that..” Harry said, staring hard into Draco’s silver eyes. His voice breaking as the tears pricking in his eyes threatened to fall. “I never wanted anyone to see that. He’s so horrible. He’s disgusting and cruel and I never wanted anyone to see that. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry. _I’m sorry_.”

Harry could feel himself breaking down completely now. He curled his legs into his chest and felt sobs shuddering through his broken body. ‘I’m sorry’ escaping his lips on repeat without his brain’s permission. His whole world had completely changed in a matter of minutes and his mind couldn’t take it anymore. He had no idea who he was and Draco Malfoy had seen the one thing he had  _ always _ tried to keep hidden. 

Harry felt strong arms snaking around him, pulling his back against a warm chest. It was then he felt a similar warm presence in his mind. Harry pulled himself towards that feeling, like following a string through the churning depths of his mind, and was met with comforting waves of another’s emotions. 

Love, caring, worry and a little bit of pain washed over Harry. He knew whoever this was loved him completely and wasn’t that just a completely new feeling for Harry bloody Potter. Harry clung to the presence, knowing instinctively it was his brother. Knowing that, with this bond, there was nothing Draco would ever do to hurt Harry. Knowing he was safe in his brothers arms. 

As his sobs slowed and rational thought returned to Harry, he realised once again that this was all too good to be true. He knew the one thing that would take this all away from him for sure. Draco Malfoy, and all the other people in this room, hated Harry and he didn’t think knowing he was a long lost family member would change that. He had the opportunity to have a family, people that loved him and took him away from the horrors of life at the Dursley's and Harry just knew that it wasn’t going to last. 


End file.
